Friday, June 19, 2015

Impressions


A head full of hoary-gray pollen,
the brain a tangled mass of creeping vines,
wild children leaping from waterfalls,
bugs, spiders, scat on the trail,
and ferns that are wise;

a young black cat new to the neighborhood,
upon her neck a tinkling bell,
kibble-chorus meets call of the wild;

the grand appearance
of a worn out shoe;

life a simple shovelful;

and here
the mind grows

still

.



2 comments:

Lorraine Renaud said...

yes it would and i understand it, and enjoy it William :)

William Michaelian said...

Thank you, Lorraine.....